


Thirteen Hours

by Dassandre



Series: What the Water Can Carry [3]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Childbirth, Family Feels, Fatherhood, Jumpers, M/M, Q (James Bond) is a Holmes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:33:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25639561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dassandre/pseuds/Dassandre
Summary: He knew Remy would share every bit of the experience with him that he could, but the simple fact of the matter was that James was missing the birth of his first child.
Relationships: James Bond/Q
Series: What the Water Can Carry [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/760626
Comments: 6
Kudos: 100
Collections: 007 Fest Fancreations





	Thirteen Hours

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Boffin1710](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boffin1710/gifts), [AsheTarasovich (natalieashe)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/natalieashe/gifts), [Rigel99](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rigel99/gifts).



> There are three people I am gifting this work to this time: 
> 
> Boffin1710 because this series is as much his as it is mine, and when I think of WaterVerse I think first of him.
> 
> AsheTarasovich who is always such a source of support in my creative endeavors.
> 
> Rigel99 whose "James Bond, Memoirs" inspired this particular fic.
> 
> I didn't expect or plan to write this. It just kind of came out of nowhere this afternoon. A plot bunny that wouldn't be denied. Thank you, loves. For everything!

The text came through just as the plane reached cruising altitude.

**_Q:_ ** _ April’s waters just broke. _

James nearly dropped his phone. He stashed his whisky glass in the holder to his right and quickly tapped out a message.

**_J:_ ** _ She’s three weeks early!  _

**_Q:_ ** _ Yes, we’re aware of that. _

**_J:_ ** _ She’s not supposed to be three weeks early! Why is she three weeks early?! Is everything okay? _

“Bond? Is everything alright?” asked his travelling companion, leaning over the aisle from her seat across from him. They were on their way back to London having completed her final mission as a trainee. Having spent the better part of the last six months with Bond as her trainer and mentor, Agent Anai Talarico felt she knew him rather well and couldn’t imagine what would cause the stoic, stalwart retired Double-O to go quite that shade of pale. 

James brushed off her question with a shake of his head as Q’s next message came through.

**_Q:_ ** _ Well, the custodial staff won’t thank us for making a mess of the floor in Q-Branch, but otherwise things seem to be fine. We’re on the way to hospital now. _

James’ heart leapt and his stomach sank at the news. He ran his hand through his hair. A gamut of emotions surged through him. Excitement. Frustration. Exhilaration. Loss. 

**_J:_ ** _ Remy, it’s an eleven-hour flight. _

**_Q:_ ** _ I know, love.  _

**_Q:_ ** _ First babies can take a while though. Some labours last upwards of 18-24 hours. _

**_J:_ ** _ When has April ever not found the shortest, most efficient way of doing things? _

…

…

…

**_Q:_ ** _ You have a point. _

Fuck!

**_Q:_ ** _ I’ll keep you posted every step of the way. We won’t leave you out. _

**_Q_ ** _ : You will make it here in time. I know you will! _

James prayed his husband was right.

**_Q_ ** _ : James … _

**_J_ ** _ : Yes, love? _

**_Q_ ** _ : Our daughter is coming!!!!! _

And James couldn’t help but smile at the series of animated stickers that followed Q’s declaration. The bunnies danced and threw confetti and gambolled about his screen at an impossible speed. Remy rarely even used emojis in his text correspondence, so this was quite the emotional declaration.

As was right and proper.

James sunk back into his seat with a sigh. He knew Remy would share every bit of the experience with him that he could, but the simple fact of the matter was that James was missing the birth of his first child. Something that five years ago he never knew he wanted and certainly never thought he’d have.

Then came Q. And though James’ hadn’t realised it at the time, Q had changed  _ everything _ .

But James fucked it all up with Madeleine. 

James’ epiphany on a ski slope in Colorado was quickly followed by his return and atonement which Q -- Thank Christ! --  _ eventually  _ accepted. 

Then came their marriage. 

Now their family.

And James was missing it.

It was a three-day mission, in and out. With nearly a month to go before the baby’s due date, there should have been no issue. Q and James had been a bit hesitant, but April had insisted. 

“Everything will be fine. I’ve plenty of time, and Anai needs to finish her training. This San Francisco mission is perfect for her.” James and Remy knew better than to argue with the mother of their child when she used that particular tone of voice.

There had been surprisingly few errors or missteps on the mission. It had gone as perfectly as one could go, in fact. Mission complete, Q had signed off in their ears only three hours earlier.

Then came Remy’s text.

“You’ll get back to London to see your daughter born, Bond.” Anai reached out and gripped his forearm in support, waving her mobile back and forth in her other hand. She, too, had apparently got a text explaining the situation. “There’ll be a car and driver waiting for us when we land at Heathrow. Get you to hospital in double-quick time.”

Talarico then flagged down the flight attendant and asked for a refill of their drinks. Bond nodded his thanks and downed the rest of his whisky.

He was going to need it.

Even with Remy’s texts, photos, and short videos he took from April’s side -- some of which James was rather grateful he wasn’t there to see in person; he’d never heard such words come from the otherwise sedate, ginger boffin -- the eleven hours and fourteen minutes Bond was in the air were nearly interminable.

They were immediately followed by the fastest 39 minutes of his life.

Though Border Control and Customs took longer than they had any reason to given it was three in the morning, true to their word, Six had a car and driver waiting kerbside when Bond and Talarico exited the terminal. Rand Aguliar, 009, who had helped rescue Q and April from their flooded lab two years ago was waiting for them in a black 4x4 and drove with alacrity back into the city centre. It was with a squeal of tyres on pavement outside the main entrance of St. Thomas’ Hospital that Bond alighted from the vehicle, dashed through security with a flash of his credentials, and arrived in April’s delivery room just as the baby was starting to crown.

He was quickly gowned and gloved and was crouched by Remy’s side when three agonising but brilliant pushes later, Miranda Ceit Bond emerged from her mum’s body and slipped, gooey and perfect, into the hands of her waiting fathers.

Bond was never quick to tears, he’d seen and done far too much in his life, but he bloody well sobbed when Mir drew her first breath of air and, like a god of old, screamed of her arrival into the world.

“She’s rather perfect, I think,” Remy whispered sometime later after the doctor and nurses had finally gone and an exhausted April lay sleeping, snoring lightly, in her hospital bed. He reached over and drew a long finger down the downy softness of Miranda’s cheek. “I’m sure all parents say that about their newborns, but in this case, it happens to be true.”

James chuckled and cradled Mir a tad closer. “Not that I’m disagreeing with you, but how so?”

“Because, among other aspects of perfection which I will enumerate at a later time, she has her mum’s ears and not yours.”

“You are such a little shite,” James snorted. But he couldn’t deny the truth of it. His girl got lucky in that regard.

“But you love me anyway,” Q said with unexpected fondness as he kissed James’ temple. 

“I do.” 

Though their love for one another was undeniable, they rarely gave voice to it. It just wasn’t needed. They knew.

Just as their daughter always would.

“Do me a favour and reach into my rucksack? I picked up a toy for her in one of the shops when we were waiting for our flight. Should be right there on top.”

“Because she  _ so  _ needs another one.” But Q stood and dug around inside the pack that had been abandoned near the door, pulling out not only the plush baby hedgehog -- Oh, his brother-in-law John was just going to  _ love  _ this, not! -- but also a stretched out, ancient jumper, handknit in blues and greens and browns.

“James? You took my favourite jumper with you to San Francisco?”

Oh shite.

“Umm … yes?”

Remy chuckled and handed his husband the hedgehog. He held onto the jumper, draping it across his lap as he sat back down. “Why?”

James and Mir sighed at the same time. In the same way.

Only one of them spoke, though it was barely whispered.

“Come again?” Remy asked, amused. It was clear James so didn’t want to explain.

“Because it smells like you,” he muttered again after a moment.

Remy didn’t think he had any more tears in him this night, but his eyes welled a tad at his husband’s admission, and he rested a hand against the slope of James’ neck since his hands were occupied with their daughter and the hedgehog he had tucked between her little body and his chest. It was no secret that Q often wore James’ shirts or hoodies around the flat during those few times when he went out on assignment. The scent of him in the fabric was comforting, soothing and grounding in a very needed way when they were apart.

It never occurred to him that James might need the same touchstone.

“I have nicer jumpers than this old thing.” Remy twitched the fabric in his lap.

James shook his head. “Don’t want any of the rest,” he admitted, still a tad embarrassed. “It’s your favourite so you wear it a lot. You’re in every fibre. And Mummy made it for you. It’s … it’s family.”

Family. Something James had had precious little of in his life, and though Remy’s family was awkward and dysfunctional and just plain bat shite crazy at times, James Bond and the various members of The Holmes Family had taken to one another in ways Q could never have anticipated or hoped for.

And years later Remy was still trying to figure out if that was bloody brilliant or just plain terrifying.

For tonight, however, the sentiment surrounding his missing jumper filled Q’s already overflowing emotional cup. Before he could say anything more, however, Mir began to fuss a bit in her sleep. James passed her over when Q made grabby hands in her direction, but rather than cuddle her to his chest, he lay her in his lap and unwrapped Mir from the tight swaddling the nurses had tucked her in. Passing the blanket back to James, he checked her wee nappy -- still dry -- and quickly bundled Mir in the soft wool of his ancient jumper, tucking and tightening the knit about their daughter with a skill that surprised James. 

James smiled at Mir’s sigh of contentment when Remy cradled her in his arms for her fussing was instantly soothed by the scent of Da and her Papa wrapped about her in the fabric of family.


End file.
